Claire's P.O.V.
I heard my mother call me from the house. She wanted me to come home for dinner. Great, just great.
I look up at Kumura to see home deep in thought. He was probably wondering what the hell just happened. Even I was confused. That had never happened before, never have I ever helped a ghost leave this earth and go to heaven.
"Claire, I said now!" my mother shouted from the house.
I looked over to her and nodded before getting up. Kumura stopped me from walking to the house by grabbing my wrist. I looked down at his hand on my wrist and then to the door where my mother had been standing.
"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come over. My bedroom widow is directly across from yours and it's always open," he said, smirking at me.
I smiled and nodded my head. I was about to turn around when he pulled me into a hug. My breath caught in my throat.
My body melted at his touch whereas I would usually shy away from any physical contact. I wrapped my arms around his torso and rested my head on his chest. Kumura was rubbing circles on my back and all I my mind could focus on was one word, safe.
When we pulled away from each other, Kumura was blushing a light shade of pink, "S-sorry," he stuttered out, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
I smiled up at him and mouthed the words thank you before giving him a peck on the cheek. I turned around and walked into the house to grab my bag and then walked out the front door.
I walked to my car that was parked in their driveway and got in it. I started it and drove it to my house and parked it in its usual spot. I walked up the front porch to the living hell hole that I called home.
"We need to talk," my father said as soon as I walked in the door.
I nodded for him to continue.
"I don't exactly know how to--" he was cut off by my mother.
"What is your relationship with that boy?" she asked, rather harshly might I add.
"In other words, are the two of you dating?" my father asked, giving his wife a look that said shut up.
I shook my head no and started for the stairs when he grabbed my arm like a vice.
"I wasn't done talking," he said in an eerily calm voice. I waited for him to continue but he never did, he just tightened his grip to the point that I almost cried out in pain.
"Stay away from that freak!" my mother hissed and stormed out the house door, slamming it behind her.
My father released my arm and shoved me towards the stairs. He glared at me before mimicking my mother's actions and storming out of the house.
I looked down at my arm and rolled my sleeve up to reveal a nasty red mark that would no doubt turn into an even nastier looking bruise.
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